


Skylines & Revelry

by runicmagitek



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Pre-Canon, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2018-04-26 23:15:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5024416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Darill/Setzer drabble prompts</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning

Setzer figured a brawl would break out, though he didn’t expect a woman in the mix. Like always, he conducted wagers amongst the tavern folk, placing his gil in the lady’s favor. With her opponent beginning to gain the upper-hand, she delivered a blow to knock him out for the night.

And she approached him once he collected his winnings. “So _you’re_ the one who bet on me?”

“Always bet on the ladies.”

She grinned. “Have enough to buy this lady a drink?”

And he smirked. “Does the lady have a name?”

Stepping forward, she cooed to Setzer. “It’s Darill.”


	2. Accusation

“Why did you steal it?!”

Setzer peered up at Darill. “Steal what?”

She perched her fists on her hips, clad in greased-covered cottons and leather. “My favorite wrench!”

“Stealing? I might have borrowed-”

“You’re trying to sabotage my work so I can spend more time with you.”

He masked his amusement over the situation. “That’s quite an accusation.” Setzer paused. “Is it at least working?”

Darill whacked him upside the head. “If you wanted me to spend time with you, you could have _asked_.”

Laughing, Setzer rose to his feet to kiss her. “Far more fun this way,” he purred.

 

 


	3. Restless

She nipped at his ear and dragged her tongue over his neck until he stirred against her. Darill smirked and wiggled as Setzer tilted his head back to eye her through exhausted eyelids.

“And what are _you_ doing?” His shaky groan mixed with a sleep deprived tone.

Darill drifted over him and positioned herself on top. “Trying to get you to pay attention to me.”

“You’re quite restless this morning.”

She returned to biting and sucking his neck, grinning when he wriggled and moaned beneath her. “Waking up to the likes of you? It’d be a crime to do nothing.”


	4. Snowflake

The noble folk from Jidoor marveled at the snowfall from their low vantage point, never knowing the wonders of it all from higher up. Setzer believed everything was far more profound and awe-inspiring while soaring through the clouds, even when piloting through a light snowstorm. It never deterred them from taking flight; if anything, it spurred them on. Snow silently floated by and the Falcon pushed onward. And when the snowflakes caught in Darill’s wild hair, each cold speck tickling her face and bringing out a smile on her red lips, Setzer never witnessed anything more beautiful in his life.


	5. Haze

“We shouldn’t be piloting through this!”

The thick fog ahead didn’t deter Darill, though. So the haze would cloud her vision. So what? It wouldn’t have been the first time she rushed headfirst into the unknown.

“What’s the matter?” she called out, tossing her head back to spot Setzer. “Afraid we’ll crash into something?”

He sighed. “The Falcon might not be stable enough for-”

Darill laughed. “Have we _met_? Love, _I’m_ not stable. This is merely par for the course. I live for this.”

She caught him smirking. It was enough to fuel Darill to accelerate further into the fog.


	6. Flame

He never expected Darill to accompany him in his gambling ventures, though she followed without resistance. Setzer sat amongst high rollers and donned a poker face to force them to fold. With every win and loss, Darill perched herself on the arm of his chair, running fingers through his hair and lighting each new cigarette brought to his lips. The spark of the tiny flame illuminated her features in the dark room like an oil painting marked with chiaroscuro. He never tired of the view. No matter the outcome that night, Setzer knew he at least walked away with her.


	7. Formal

She lost a bet, thus Darill had to pay up. Setzer already had the custom, formal gown fitted specifically for her to wear to the opera house. Though when he laced her up, her blue eyes couldn’t even fathom to gaze upon her reflection. Setzer found stunning beauty, but Darill saw a deformed stranger. She didn’t have to agree to the bet to begin with, but she did. Just to make him happy. As Setzer stripped her and offered his own wardrobe to pick from, it marked the first and only time he let someone wiggle away from a debt.


	8. Companion

Everyone knew them as rivals. Two birds competing for territory in the endless sky. Each time Setzer thought he had the upper hand, Darill zoomed passed him. She drove him insane with her pride and audacity. It was enough to make him want more than a rivalry. Though he wasn't sure what exactly she could be to him. Perhaps someone to call as his equal, maybe even mutually. And when Setzer admitted to himself that they were just that - equals - their flights together became less about competition and more about impressing the other in hopes to gain a lifelong companion. 


	9. Move

She had always been hypnotized by the way his hands moved. The cards sliding over them, the dice floating between thin fingers, and the airship levers submitting to his every wish. Of course Darill wanted those very hands between her legs to coax her to bliss. Curling, stroking, rubbing. The kind of caress she fantasized of, only to have her daydreams shattered by the reality of his true expertise. When she got what she longed for, Darill arched back and grinned.

“Better?” Setzer whispered into her ear, his slick fingers tracing her lips. 

“You have no idea,” she moaned back. 


	10. Silver

Darill never cared much for money. When her life intertwined with Setzer’s, his wealth and material possessions were of little interest to her. He cared for stacks of silver gil and she relished piles of chrome parts, though her airship couldn’t come close to what she truly longed for. It was the memory of specific experiences which kept Darill smiling. Gil couldn’t buy moments of pure exhilaration. She was bound to show Setzer that he could acquire his adrenaline fix on more than just his gambling. Besides, he was one of those happy occurrences she couldn’t put a price on. 


	11. Prepared

At times, the Falcon swept Darill away and locked her up deep in its hull. Setzer always found her clad in grease-covered pants and boots paired with a loose blouse. From his vantage point on a catwalk, he spied upon her slaving over the complex machinery. The sight was as enticing as when she straddled him nude in bed. But Darill was busy ensuring the Falcon was prepared for another strenuous test flight. She didn’t need distractions in the form of needy kisses on her neck and curious hands pawing at her top. Then again, Setzer couldn’t exactly help himself.


	12. Knowledge

If the Blackjack was a pinnacle of luxury, then the Falcon was the equivalent to a run-down tavern. Darill never cared for appearances, nor was she keen on entertaining guests, thus she couldn’t be bothered to liven up the place. Setzer didn’t mind. He chuckled at the character contained in the Falcon, much like its owner. Though what surpassed the aesthetic was the mechanical work. Darill’s knowledge of engineering exceeded the combination of brilliant minds living already.  Centuries from now, Darill’s designs would be a foundation for young inventors. Setzer certainly envied it, but he forever admired it far more.


	13. Denial

“Say it.”

Setzer peered up from his scotch and raised an eyebrow. Darill swayed before him and licked the wine off of her lips.

“I’m not saying a damn thing,” he replied with a smirk.

She purred. Oh, how he loved that.

“ _You_ ,” she spoke and emphasized with jabbing fingers into him, “are just in denial and don’t want to admit I’m the better pilot.”

“I think it’s a matter of preference.”

Darill collapsed into him giggling. “I think you don’t want to admit I’m better than you.”

“Maybe at some things, but not flying.”

“Definitely flying.”

“Nope.”

“Uh-huh!”

Their banter continued, just as their faces drew closer. Whatever spell the alcohol cast upon her was a silly one, but Setzer wasn’t going to argue when Darill wiggled into his lap and nuzzled into his face. She bragged of her prowess in the skies, yet her argument faded away the deeper her hips sunk into his. Maybe when she was sober, they could properly discuss it - maybe even have a gamble - but so long as he could taste the wine upon her lips, Setzer was keen on letting Darill have her way. It always turned out well in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double drabble for this prompt. Was hard not to.


	14. Wind

Where most folk damned the wind for fussing up appearances, Darill relished it. All the more reason to travel upward until her fingers sifted through the clouds. Violent winds styled her hair and burned her cheeks crimson. Each gust challenged her to push faster, harder. The Falcon raced the wind, the rising breeze guiding her metal wings. The skies, however, were a lonely place; Darill flew alone. No land-dweller fancied the one destined for the skies. 

Except one day the wind whirled away and brought back someone who matched the fire in her soul. A kindred feather, at long last. 


	15. Order

Her first encounter with the opera left her desiring an escape. The patrons were Jidoorian with a splash of Figaroan and Vectorian. All prim and proper in their lace and silk while Darill reigned in leather and grit. A lowlife amongst the highest order of nobles. She hated it.

But then an arm slipped around her and needy lips sunk into her temple. When her pout persisted, Setzer whispered words rivaling with poetry. He reminded Darill she was wanted. Perhaps by not those attending the opera house, but by him - her lover. That was enough reason to stay for Darill.


	16. Thanks

“What are these?” Dice, of course, though of polished, ancient stone, engraved with golden runes.

Darill smirked. “Give them a roll.”

Raising an eyebrow, Setzer blew on the rattling dice in his palm out of habit and rolled them out onto the table. Once they settled, a puff of glittering smoke produced a rabbit. 

It spun and wove magic. Weak magic, but magic nonetheless. 

“Are they cursed?” Setzer asked. 

“Hell if I know,” she chuckled. “The idiot I won them from thought so. Bare minimum, they're pretty.”

Setzer hummed. “Thanks. I’m sure I'll find a use for them one day.”


	17. Look

She found the place on a whim, yet the urge to show it to him overwhelmed her. Darill brought Setzer to the hill tucked into the other side of the world with promises of something spectacular. The view alone, after all, was worth the flight. Peering back to him, she gauged the look on his face. Nothing but the wind filled the space between them and in time, Setzer smiled.

“It can be ours,” Darill purred. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Our little spot?”

“Mmm. Just us.”

He looped an arm around her. “I think I can get used to that.”


	18. Summer

The only rival to summer’s heat was the depths of the Falcon's engine room during those sunny days. Darill cursed under her breath for being unable to peel her own skin off to cool herself down. With her wild hair tight in a bun and all but her blouse stripped from her sweaty body, she slaved over the machinery. It wasn't until Setzer snuck up behind her, kissing her neck and groping her chest that she surrendered to him and forfeit her work. After all, the heat they shared together with every kiss, touch, and look surpassed any summer day. 


	19. Transformation

A hint of a grin graced his lips. “See something you like?”

Darill blinked. “Don't I always?”

He chuckled. “It's different.”

Of course it was. Setzer cleaned up for a gala and spent extra time before the mirror to polish his look, more so than usual. Each time, Darill hung back like a cat, marveling at his transformation. Finally, he caught her. 

“You clean up well,” she said, sauntering towards him.

His chest puffed out. “Think so?”

Darill latched onto the lapels of his jacket and drew him in, breathing her answer onto his lips before kissing him. “Know so.”


	20. Tremble

The first time was awkward. Enough alcohol saturated their bellies to grace themselves with courage and the bright idea to take their drunken innuendos elsewhere. However, said liquid burning through them couldn't still their trembling hands fumbling to undo layers of clothing. They swore, they apologized, they laughed. But Setzer desired to be perfect for her. How was anything less acceptable for the one he cherished the most? Time matured them and soothed the nervous rattle in their bones. And when Setzer closed his mouth over Darill's, the sensation brought forth a new set of trembles that both eagerly accepted. 


	21. Mad

For all the times they fell over one another in hysterical fits of laughter, they equally spat out words brimming with anger. Darill was a spitfire and Setzer possessed a stubborn streak—a combination destined for disaster. Sometimes they butted heads and sometimes they exploded. But every couple fought. Even them. The difference with them was they never stayed mad at each other long; short fuses sputtered out the fastest. Besides, it was always an excuse to release excess stress via angry sex. Neither ever complained, not when they never wanted anyone else to share life with, arguments and all.


	22. Thousand

"Do they ever bother you?"

Darill poked at one of the many scars lining Setzer's bare body. He cracked a smile.

"No," he whispered, kissing her fingers.

Darill chuckled. "Do you keep track of them?"

At one point, he had. Back when they were counted on both hands. But now? Were there hundreds? _Thousands?_

"Only the ones worth telling a story about," he said.

"Aren't they all?"

And he drew her into his arms. "Though I've yet to earn a scar from my favorite story."

"Oh? Which one is that?"

His answer was but a kiss upon her grinning lips.


	23. Outside

He found her outside during intermission, a glass of wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The gentle wind played with her hair and soothed her tense muscles. Setzer smiled. For months, he brought Darill to the opera house to indulge in his own passions. She fidgeted and sighed throughout the performances, only to dart to the balcony at her earliest convenience.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Setzer offered once. 

Darill stroked his face and held his gaze. "Only for you. Anyone else and I would have forsaken this place long ago."


	24. Winter

Like the birds they aspired to be, they flew south with the warm weather. Only once they opted to brave winter. The airships rattled in protest, but they made the most of it. As the snow fell silently about the docked airships, Setzer and Darill snuggled before their pitiful attempt at a fire, their drinks and body heat doing more to maintain warmth. 

"Next time," Setzer sighed out, "we fly out of this mess."

"Hmm… I'd take any excuse to snuggle like this, though."

"I'd rather be warm."

Darill kissed his neck and grinned. "I'm sure I can fix that."


	25. Diamond

In those sleepless nights, he found her curled up by the bow of the Falcon. Darill wrapped herself in a thick blanket and eyed the myriad stars above. Each speckle of light shimmered like a diamond against the black of night.

"Tell me another story," Darill murmured when Setzer embraced her.

"Of the stars?" She nodded in response. "But I've told them all to you."

Darill shrugged. "Then start again. Or make up a new one."

And he did, weaving a tale of the brightest, boldest star. Darill smiled, eyes wide to the sky, unaware his words spoke of her.


	26. Letters

Every night, Setzer scribed responses to business peers. Each letter was a work of art, perfectly crafted from black ink and a swift, yet precise hand. Darill squinted at her scribbles lost in her blueprints. Though meant only for her, the lack of elegance—of a true lady's touch—bothered Darill.

"You write so well," she remarked.

"As do you," Setzer said.

"Don't lie."

"I don't. What I see is a woman desperate to express her genius in fear it will be lost amongst millions of creative ideas."

When Darill fiddled with her blueprints, she remembered Setzer's words, and smiled.  


	27. Sunset

People took advantage of a myriad of phenomena in life. No one gave a second thought to the blissful weather or melodic songbirds or the endless beauty in every night sky. Flying provided a different vantage point for Setzer. From above, he witnessed everyday occurrences in a different light. His favorite amongst them all was the one hill Darill stumbled upon. _Their_ hill. And when the sun set, the brilliant light caught in her wind-blown hair like a blazing cascade of gold and Setzer smiled upon her like it was the first time he ever laid eyes upon the woman.


	28. Promise

They made promises amidst drunken laughs and starlit nights. All of them outrageous and worthy of a smirk, but never to be taken seriously. The world was never set in stone, so why bother? Live for the moment as if you were to die tomorrow. It was done to spite fate and have a chuckle for good time's sake. Yet when Darill spoke to Setzer that one time, he swore time skipped and the world stood still. 

"You'll take care of the Falcon for me when I'm gone, won't you?"

And thus he laughed, but for once, she never did. 


	29. Simple

It was a simple wish—she longed to live in a world free of judgment. Darill long to be happy. She couldn't be that if she fell in line with societal standards. She couldn't fly if she resigned herself to teatime in frilly dresses. How else was she to touch the stars? Death never scared her. Perhaps in death, she would be reborn in a better world and a proper body. Airships would litter the skies and no one would doubt her dreams and beliefs. Only then would she be free.

Her one fear was living that life without Setzer. 


	30. Future

He refused to believe the truth. What he found in that valley was an illusion. Everywhere he flew, he looked for her, whether in the grit of the taverns or the natural grace of a gliding falcon. No woman, substance, or game erased her from his memories—meager distractions at best. He chased after ghosts, but never her, for she was lost to the physical realm she always hated. Maybe she would be reborn in a body and world more to her liking. Maybe she was in a better place, though the idea of a future without Darill agonized Setzer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus ends this drabble collection. I started this as an ode to this pairing, because they're highly underrated, and managed to break my heart all over again. No matter who I pair these characters with, Darill/Setzer are forever in my eyes the epitome of soulmates. Thanks for reading this collection!


End file.
